Chapter 23

"'Tis of a lady in her earliest youth,
The very last of that illustrious race."
ROGERS.

When the fishermen landed on the quay, they deserted the gondola of the
state to a man. Donna Violetta and her governess heard the tumultuous
departure of their singular captors with alarm, for they were nearly in
entire ignorance of the motive which had deprived them of the protection
of Father Anselmo, and which had so unexpectedly made them actors in the
extraordinary scene. The monk had simply explained that his offices were
required in behalf of the dead, but the apprehension of exciting
unnecessary terror prevented him from adding that they were in the power
of a mob. Donna Florinda, however, had ascertained sufficient, by
looking from the windows of the canopy and from the cries of those
around her, to get a glimmering of the truth. Under the circumstances,
she saw that the most prudent course was to keep themselves as much as
possible from observation. But when the profound stillness that
succeeded the landing of the rioters announced that they were alone,
both she and her charge had an intuitive perception of the favorable
chance which fortune had so strangely thrown in their way.

"They are gone!" whispered Donna Florinda, holding her breath in
attention, as soon as she had spoken.

"And the police will be soon here to seek us!"

No further explanation passed, for Venice was a town in which even the
young and innocent were taught caution. Donna Florinda stole another
look without.

"They have disappeared, Heaven knows where! Let us go!"

In an instant the trembling fugitives were on the quay. The Piazzetta
was without a human form, except their own. A low, murmuring sound arose
from the court palace, which resembled the hum of a disturbed hive; but
nothing was distinct or intelligible.

"There is violence meditated," again whispered the governess; "would to
God that Father Anselmo were here!"

A shuffling footstep caught their ears, and both turned towards a boy,
in the dress of one of the Lagunes, who approached from the direction of
the Broglio.

"A reverend Carmelite bid me give you this," said the youth, stealing a
glance behind him, like one who dreaded detection. Then putting a small
piece of paper in the hand of Donna Florinda, he turned his own swarthy
palm, in which a small silver coin glittered, to the moon, and vanished.

By the aid of the same light the governess succeeded in tracing
pencil-marks, in a hand that had been well known to her younger days.

"Save thyself, Florinda--There is not an instant to lose. Avoid public
places, and seek a shelter quickly."